


Ignis Fatuus

by managerie



Series: Asylum [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fix-It, M/M, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, rinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root never left the Asylum</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Liberty

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially: a retelling of seasons three and four. This is the Original Root and Team Machine. If you loved season four then you probably will hate this fic. I am not partial to the redeemed Cyber Savior Root of the last two seasons and it shows in this piece.
> 
> Just a heads up: I interchange various names for characters. This is intentional. Just as Reese sometimes calls his partner 'Harold' and other times 'Finch' so too will the narrator. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this indulgence fic of mine.  
> Beta read by Blue_Finch

~ * ~

Harold Wren strolled slowly past the nurse’s station and the closed door of the medicine dispensary adjacent to it, the numerous shelves of medicinal supplies viewable through its windowed partition. The staff knew him by now. He was the unfortunate, compassionate, disabled, and thoughtful uncle of their newest resident to the maximum security ward. He was kind and generous, polite to the staff, and infinitely patient with his niece: Samantha Groves, who preferred to be called Root. The staff had received permission from Samantha's doctors to call her Root in order to avoid any outbursts: to keep her calm and unperturbed.

Root more times than not would be staring out the window when he visited, as she was want to do. She had said that she was getting messages from an omnipotent computer in Morse code broadcast in a range only people under thirty could hear. It was such a shame that a bright and talented woman was so disturbed.

She was gifted with electronics. This meant that the staff could not have their phones anywhere near her. When she was in the common room no one, not even the low risk patients could have their tablets. Root had conspired to escape twice already. Her uncle was understanding. He said he knew her capabilities quite well.

The staff assumed that he had taught her everything she knew because when they spoke each week he seemed able to converse with her about coding and electronics. It was fascinating and mind boggling to listen to them geek-speak. They would rapid fire incomprehensible terms at each other.

The conversation would appear to frustrate Mr. Wren. It seemed that Root wouldn’t listen to reason. Which is of course what was happening. The young lady was after all dangerously delusional. She had dislocated an orderly's shoulder already among the hundreds of bruises her breakout attempts had left on the staff.

Sometimes, Mr. Wren’s domestic partner visited with him. Mr. John Rooney was a well dressed, smooth operator with a lethal bearing. He was overly protective of Mr. Wren, but solicitous and adoring to his husband. Rooney was an Asset Manager for Harold Crane. He had said on occasion he must like guys named Harold. Which made Wren blush every time.

On the other hand, Mr. Rooney was not as kind to Root at all. He seemed suspicious of her and downright curt. Root for her part was equally adversarial. She hated Rooney with a passion few had seen from her previously. It was rumored that Root disliked Rooney because her Uncle's attention was now split between them. Whereas before, Wren obviously had lavished his niece with time, attention, and praise if her devotion and admiration to the man was any indication. It was the prevailing theory that Root was jealous of Rooney and his place in Wren’s life.

Today, Wren was by himself. He was speaking to Root’s Doctor before visiting his niece. Ronald Carmichael MD, PhD greeted Mr. Wren warmly, as the two conferenced about Samantha’s case.

~ * ~

Ms. Shaw looked up from picking her nails while sitting on the back of a chair, her legs dangling in the seat. “How’s the Mad Coder?”

Harold closed his eyes and wished for patience as he paused in removing his overcoat. “Ms. Shaw...”

John Reese stepped into the computer room and glared at her. “Shaw, enough.” John glided over to the coat-rack and plopped Harold’s hat off the spiky hair to deposit the article on a low branch.

Softly he asked, “How is Root progressing?”

Harold sighed and continued removing his coat. John helped him out of the long coat and straightened the suit jacket. Harold nodded his thanks, removed some papers from his satchel, and limped over to his computers. “She isn’t any better than she was in the warehouse all those months ago.”

Shaw got up from her stance of feigned nonchalance to stand on Harold’s other side. The two former agents often took positions on either side of Finch as if even in their safe haven they must guard the man.

She shrugged and crossed her arms. “Well, if I had had a little more time to set up my shot, we wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore. Her brains would be on the floor and we’d be done with the crazy loon.”

“Shaw.” John tilted his head towards his armory, tacit permission for Shaw to go through his weapons stash. A rare treat for her. She shrugged again, but she did leave the room after one last grumpy look at Harold.

Shaw meant well, but she had the tact of a Molotov Cocktail. Over the last few months she had really come to respect Finch. She didn’t relate to people easily. Next to Cole, Finch was the closest thing Shaw had to a real connection to this world.

She had a hard time finding a place with them, but Harold’s machinations to permanently protect Cole’s parents went a long way. Finch had slowly shown himself to be a man she could admire and follow without pause. It wasn’t sexual for either of them, more paternal. Harold becoming the father figure she never allowed herself to have after her Dad died.

However, seeing Harold stubbornly stand between a group of assassins and an injured Shaw, refusing to move his mangled body in order to give her time to defend herself really took the cake. Shaw had been furious. Harold had been non-committal. John was the one to take her aside and explain that for Harold, their lives were precious and the reclusive martyr truly believed that Reese and Shaw deserved to live more than Finch himself.

Shaw had been gobsmacked. She had cursed and ranted for twenty minutes. When the steam had been let off John had shrugged and said, “I know, it’s backwards, but it’s how he feels. So, that makes our job harder. Our first priority has to be keeping Finch secure, keeping our handler out of danger. A mission isn't successful if Finch isn’t there to celebrate it.”

Shaw had grimly agreed. Since that time Shaw has been John’s second in command for _Project: Keep Finch Safe_. In her own antisocial-disordered way, Shaw had found a home and family here. Finch as patriarch with Bear as little brother. John was slowly becoming the big brother, but really they were more like fraternal twins. Cast from the same mold, but in different renditions of the extreme characteristics of their genders. John was tall, dark, and handsome with Sameen: beautiful, petite, and curvy.

Except, John seemed to have gotten all the compassion and ability to empathize. John’s penchant for connecting with the Numbers really was an inconvenience for Shaw, but a boon for Harold. Finch could be as smooth as butter or as sweet as sugar if he wanted, but Harold would prefer to limit his social interactions.

Therefore, John was the emotion, Sameen the logic with Harold sitting pretty as reason. Bear of course was their soul. It worked for them. The only snag was Root. Harold spent far too much time trying to fix Samantha Groves. John knew this was partly PTSD, part control issues, and part survivor’s guilt. Harold felt responsible for how Root unraveled. It was going to be John’s job to help heal Harold from this wound. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Especially since Shaw thought she had made a mistake in not killing Root. Every time Harold came back sad and despondent from visiting Root, Shaw saw it as a mark against her. As if she were to blame for Harold’s inability to let go of Root. That Shaw herself was making Harold upset simply because Shaw hadn’t taken Root out permanently. John’s teammates weren’t able to see what was going on like John could. Harold just thought Shaw was bloodthirsty and Shaw thought Harold was trying to replace her. It was a mess. One that John was going to clean up soon.

John pulled up a chair next to Harold who was leafing through a large manuscript.

“What’s this?” John asked.

Harold looked up a bit startled as if he had forgotten other people existed in the world. It was something he did often when coding, reading, or just savoring his tea. “Oh, this is Ms. Groves’ journal. Her doctor can’t make heads or tails of it so asked me as her guardian to attempt to decipher it.”

John’s eyes narrowed and his lip curled. “It looks like a novel. This is Root’s ramblings, what’s going on inside her mind?”

Harold nodded absently. “Yes. At least I and the staff at Stoneridge Hospital hope so.”

“Can you translate it?” John inquired.

Harold dipped his head to the side as much as he could. “It looks simple enough. I have asked The Machine for help.”

This didn’t surprise Reese. When it was discovered that The Machine had moved itself and was no longer tethered to the government, Harold had been in contact with it on a regular basis, tweaking this or teaching that. John sometimes felt excluded in these father/child discussions. Yet, it was needed in order to build up The Machine’s programming now that it was on its own. No geek monkeys of the NSA there to fix a burnt out circuit.

Harold had been wary of direct contact at first, fearing that he would influence The Machine or violate the black-box aspect of the program. So far though that hadn’t happened. Harold seemed happy to be back in touch with his creation, going so far as to get John to talk to it, helping with strategies and tactics.

When questioned about it, Harold had said, “Well, you are The Contingency and Auxiliary Admin now. The Machine needs you and your expertise as much as it needs me since it now functions for both the relevant and irrelevant lists on its own full time.”

It made John feel like a stepparent to Harold’s child. Which strangely enough gave Reese a warm fuzzy feeling. He might never know Harold’s real name, but the amount of trust sharing administration access to The Machine took was astronomical. It also helped John feel included.

Reese knew his romanticizing their group as a family was melodramatic and if he had been back in the CIA Stanton would have had a cow. It was a sign of just how settled he was that John felt no twinge of unease with his complacency. He was Harold’s partner, husband, lover, co-worker, co-parent and best friend. John felt secure in this more so than he had ever felt in his entire life. His rock solid footing with Finch was the icing on the cake for him. He actually thought about the future now. He made plans and started keeping photographs again. John was becoming a family man with ideas on retiring someday. It was a good feeling. All thanks to one Harold Finch.

By the same token, John knew he needed to help his spouse with the Root situation. “When you get that decoded, send me a copy. Maybe between us we can figure out what screws got knocked loose in Root’s head.”

Harold was a little surprised to hear this. John despised Root for kidnapping Harold twice and threatening Grace. Grace, who now had a full time position in Venice. She could paint and teach as much as she wanted. She was happy and even dating.

Harold had asked John to keep tabs on her so that Harold wouldn’t feel like a stalker. John was sure that an underlying reason for this was Harold’s desire to reassure John that although Finch would always love Grace, that love was in the past, a bittersweet loss, but as irrevocable as the grave. Just as John loved Jessica though she was gone so too did Harold love Grace.

Once again, Harold made certain that John felt secure in his new life and position with Harold. It was nice having someone you could always depend on and who took great care to make you feel wanted. John tried his best to reciprocate. Harold’s safety and comfort were number one on John’s list at all times.

In that event, it shouldn’t have been surprising to know that John would share this burden of defragging Root’s mind with Harold. What was surprising was hearing Shaw in the back ask for a copy too.

When both men stared at her she got defensive. “What? I took a lot of psych courses and did a rotation or five at the hospital. Understanding the mind helped me figure out what was wrong with me.” She shrugged.

Harold straightened in his chair as he turned back around to face the monitors. “There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Ms. Shaw. You simply are as remarkable in mind as you are in body and spirit.”

It was a throw away comment from Harold, but it went straight to Shaw’s psychopathic heart. She blinked a few times, drinking in the idea that Finch so casually held her in such high regard. Then she seemed to shake herself and said, “I just think a clinical assessment might help as well.”

Harold didn’t turn towards her again, but said, “I agree. Thank you Ms. Shaw.”

And so the three of them began the long journey into the dark recess of Root’s delusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis Fatuus:
> 
> noun, plural _ignes fatui_ [ig-neez fach-oo-ahy]  
>  1\. Also called friar's lantern, will-o'-the-wisp. a flitting phosphorescent light seen at night, chiefly over marshy ground, and believed to be due to spontaneous combustion of gas from decomposed organic matter.  
> 2\. something deluding or misleading.


	2. 4C, not Forewarned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team machine reacts to Root's Mary Sue Fanfic. Also known as seasons three and four.

~ * ~

The journal did indeed read like a novel. Each chapter had its own single arc like a mini series within the overall scope of the document; side adventures if you will. Basically, Root had a Number given to the group most chapters and they solved it while also building to a crescendo of a showdown with this Greer person and Samaritan. Vigilance was an obvious lesser big bad. Elias strangely enough wasn’t really anything but an advisor and occasional helper. Which deviated from reality.

After Carter rescued the mob boss he had cleaned out his own organization and HR with the exception of the top people with a ruthlessness that rivaled a true Caesar. Carter was a bit taken aback by the level of violence she felt she had unleashed on the world.

However, Elias had curtailed his drug business and eliminated the prostitution completely. The gang now focused on protection rackets and gambling. Very low chance of mortality and ruination of the masses. It was a concession to Carter in a way. Now, Carl Elias was an old school mafioso instead of a modern day Don.

Harold and Elias met frequently in the park for chess. No regular schedule of course, but Anthony and John were allowed to stand guard while the two greatest emperors of New York talked over a board game. John was constantly wary of Elias until the man had taken John aside to explain that as a teacher he knew how to calculate the cold tolerances of a child that he had weighed himself. Leila had never been in real danger. Elias had timed everything and kept the temperature at non-lethal degrees.

“I truly am sorry I did that to you, John.” He had said with real emotion.“It made you feel that I was a loose cannon, ruthless and uncaring. I hope one day I can repair your notions on me. I am a bad man, but not a savage I assure you.”

Overall, Elias was busy with his empire. No Dominic or this ‘ _Brotherhood’_ in sight. It was a cliche name for a group and the idea that Harold’s little speeches on Pi inspired a budding drug kingpin were ludicrous.

However, Harold could read faster than either John or Sameen. So the first real objection Harold heard from them was of course the first chapter entitled _Liberty_.

John mumbled into his reading material, “First off, no way Carter knows where sailors go to get laid and I don’t. Secondly, Carter is not some _‘loose woman’_ trying to get laid herself so soon after Beecher’s death. Really disrespectful portrayal of a good cop.”

Shaw had silently agreed with a nod. Harold attempted to ignore them while he wrote a program to break into their current Number’s bank account.

The third chapter, _Lady Killer_ really had both agents objecting to Root’s characterizations of them once their latest case was resolved.

“I do not have a crush on Carter!” Shaw bellowed from the floor next to Bear’s bed.

“Well, you did ask me if she was single.” John drawled.

Shaw scrunched up her face in annoyance. “Just making sure she didn’t have a boyfriend that could find out about us.”

John shrugged, letting it go. Shaw’s crush on Carter had settled down to admiration. Carter was straight, looking for a true life partner. Sameen wasn’t a good fit for her. It was sexual and a little bit of a crush, but it had been one sided and handled by Sameen: alone.

John instead said, “Well, Shaw would never ask me about my sex life on a rooftop across the street from Carter who was undercover.”

Reese looked over at Harold with a questioning expression. “What was I even doing on that roof? If we were worth anything as agents, Shaw would be on point with the rifle and I would have been in the building near the apartment door so I could intervene if Carter needed help. But seriously, why the hell would we involve Zoe and Carter in the first place? Shaw is enough to tempt any man.”

Harold pinched the bridge of his nose and waited for John to run out of steam.

Reese stood up and moved over to Harold’s computer table with his copy of the manuscript. “And right here.” He jabbed a long finger at a passage that offended him apparently. “Shaw’s uncomfortable in a dress? Really?”

John continued his musings. “Shaw at the club unable to keep from frowning. As if Shaw was some rookie who hadn’t learned to go into deep cover. This is a load of bull.” He punched the page with finality. “Root thinks we're a group of amateurs who never learned to act the part. Ridiculous.”

John walked away from the table, leaving his book next to Finch. The taller man went to the kitchen area of the library to get another cup of coffee. Really, both John and Sameen should have gone home to sleep after an all night stake out, but something about Root’s journal had them reading it at every opportunity. Perhaps the idea of an outsider giving them a different perspective, however skewed.

Unfortunately, they liked to explain to Harold _**in detail**_ how wrong Ms. Groves got everything. It was tiresome especially since Harold knew where the narrative was heading. If they didn't like the first eight chapters then when they got to chapter nine they were going to explode. It wasn’t something to which Harold was looking forward, to be honest.

Shaw snorted over the commlink a few days later, making both Reese and Finch jump. She apologized from her position as intel in the Library and explained to them when they had a moment away from the crowd in the gay bar their Number frequented.

Shaw’s account held amusement for her. “I have to protect a kid who is of course precocious and wise beyond her years.”

The men could hear the eyeroll in her voice. “And of course she melts my heart, spurring me to action and even hugging the little rugrat.”

Harold just nodded to himself.

John seemed to be perplexed. He might not have read that chapter yet. He looked puzzled with his head tilted like a dog trying to hear better. “Why would we assign you to a precocious kid? Wouldn’t Finch be the best one of us for that?”

Shaw snorted again. “You’d think.”

Harold again said nothing. He understood that Ms. Groves was altering a basic factor in Sameen’s personality in order to facility a dramatic evolution later. In other words, the story of Gen in the _Razgovor_ chapter was a step toward Shaw being able to fall in love with Root later. It was out of character for Shaw and ludicrous of course.

Romantic orientation doesn’t switch on like a toggle. Shaw was not capable of romantic feelings: full stop. She wasn’t some real world Grinch who would have her heart grow three times its size. Her heart was fine. She just didn’t feel romance like the majority of the populace. Attempting to manipulate her into become ordinary was dangerous and a disservice to an extraordinary woman. Unfortunately, Root took many liberties with their primary characterizations throughout her composition in order to arrange the outcome she wanted. Namely that Sameen falls in love with her, John drifts away from Finch leading Harold to seek Root out as his new best friend. Which is what she had wanted when she first kidnapped him.

~ * ~

It was obvious when a week later, Reese finally arrived at _The Crossing_ to _4C_ arc. He came into the library and made significant eye contact with Shaw. She grimaced and scratched Bear’s ears. John settled into a chair next to Harold. Shaw got up and took Bear’s leash. The two made to go for a walk. Sameen looked back at John right before disappearing down the stairs. Shaw was getting better at reading him. She intuitively understood that Reese would need to speak to Finch alone. John was grateful.

He cleared his throat to interrupt Harold from whatever he was doing to the computers. Harold startled for a second not having noticed John’s arrival. Usually, Reese made sure Harold knew when he entered the building. Finch was too paranoid to just show up like a ghost, it was bad for his nerves. However, today John had been so quiet and Shaw had been guarding Finch that Harold had not noticed him.

John tipped his head in an apology then he took Harold’s hands into his own, turning Finch around to face his lover. John held Harold's hands and said in a serious, low tone, “You know I would never leave you right?”

Harold’s eyes widened, “Of course, Mr. Reese.”

John swallowed then shook his head. “No, you need to understand that even if I lost faith in our mission, I'll never lose faith in you. If I needed to quit this job, I would never, _ever_ leave you.”

Harold leaned forward into John's personal space as if Harold could melt with his partner so John could see exactly what Harold felt and how Harold saw John. “You read the chapter called _4C_ didn't you?”

John grimly nodded.

Harold removed his right hand from John's in order to lightly cup his lover’s cheek. “John, I know that no matter what happens, you would never leave my side. If you felt the mission was no longer fruitful you would either convince me to leave it or you would simply resign yourself to being my bodyguard while I continued on, but you need to understand that everything in that manuscript is the twisted thoughts of a delusional woman.”

Harold moistened his lips and continued. “She hates you because you take the position as my best friend, as my confidante, as the person I trust the most in the world and that is the position she wants with all her might. So, she simply disregards everything you are, everything we are.”

Harold paused to collect his thoughts. He rarely spoke of his initial captivity and torture at Root’s hands, but John’s needs always trumped Harold’s own reticence. “She simply sees you as an impediment, but as I told her before, you are not Bad Code, you prove her wrong everyday. So this is simply another reason for us to pity her, that she doesn't understand love: true, abiding love.”

He swallowed slowly, closed his eyes briefly, “Obsession, fervor, she only knows unrequited, doomed attachments. She cannot look at you and see a man who is in love. Instead, she sees a roadblock, an obstacle and so we pity her. We do not allow her to forecast our future, to mangle what we are to each other. She doesn't know us, John. Every word in this manuscript shows it to be true.”

Harold took his hands back and tapped his keyboard to bring up the journal. “We would never allow Detective Carter to die on a fruitless effort of revenge. We would never be so out of communication, so out of sync with each other to break up over Carter making a decision about her life choices as if we are the only factors involved in Carter’s existence. You would never spontaneously develop romantic feelings for Joss. You would never cheat on me. Root got it wrong, Mr. Reese.”

Harold looked around again, shutting his computers down, returning back to John. “Please do not ever think that her wild rambling reflect reality, they do not. The reality is: I would very much like to take you to dinner. Would that be amenable to you?”

John smiled half heartedly, but he stood to get their coats. Harold finished shutting down the library for the day, leaving a message for Ms. Shaw. She replied that she would be taking the dog for the night. Harold sighed and said, “We will have to further discuss with her preciously whose dog Bear actually is.”

John smirked and took two steps down the stairs. He turned as Harold got to the top. This made Harold slightly taller than his lover. John reached up and kissed Harold warmly. “I love you.”

Harold returned the kiss and said, “And I you, Mr. Reese.”

Hand in hand they left their headquarters, walking a few blocks to get a cab. They argued playfully about where to eat, the awful manuscript far from their minds.

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might add little snippets as a series following each section of season three and four later. This piece is simply me trying to get something complete and posted as a way to get out of my writer's slump. Hope the readers liked it.  
> Beta Read by Blue_Finch

**Author's Note:**

> This Work has a sequel:
> 
> ####  [Nomen Usoris](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Asylum_Collection/works/7408126) by [managerie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie)


End file.
